CrownS
Slowly, inch by inch, Crowns learns to fall in love with the dark and the things that go bump in the night. It is all as wondrous as he could ever dream, his own strange fairy tale that seems to be leading to happily ever after. He doesn’t need a prince charming or a damsel in distress for this story, though. He’s perfectly content just the way things are. In fact, the scales and fangs could be plucked from him and he would gladly find a new way to make himself one of the monsters.
His mother may prefer him that way. She often speaks of his eldest sister, of Prayer and her perfectly unpointed teeth. But there is still love in every goodnight kiss and so he brushes the stories away rather easily. She loves him, with or without the fangs.
Crowns admires the feather hanging from his lip, the way it does not glisten or shine but rather reflects the depth of night. It looks like he imagines an eclipse might feel. He brings his bright blue gaze back to Eight when he speaks. So, it is a gift then! An eager grin overcomes his face at the news. He steps closer to his new friend then, holding up the feather to the magician.
“Can you put it in my hair so I always have it? Never know when I may wanna go walking like this again,” he explains as his little wings spread open at the building excitement in his chest. Crowns often grows so bored as he waits for his parents to return from their hunts. But now, he’s already wondering when they’ll leave him to his own devices next - a thrilling change of routine.
“Next time, will you teach me to fly? Neither of my parents can,” he says with a tilt of his head.
His mother may prefer him that way. She often speaks of his eldest sister, of Prayer and her perfectly unpointed teeth. But there is still love in every goodnight kiss and so he brushes the stories away rather easily. She loves him, with or without the fangs.
Crowns admires the feather hanging from his lip, the way it does not glisten or shine but rather reflects the depth of night. It looks like he imagines an eclipse might feel. He brings his bright blue gaze back to Eight when he speaks. So, it is a gift then! An eager grin overcomes his face at the news. He steps closer to his new friend then, holding up the feather to the magician.
“Can you put it in my hair so I always have it? Never know when I may wanna go walking like this again,” he explains as his little wings spread open at the building excitement in his chest. Crowns often grows so bored as he waits for his parents to return from their hunts. But now, he’s already wondering when they’ll leave him to his own devices next - a thrilling change of routine.
“Next time, will you teach me to fly? Neither of my parents can,” he says with a tilt of his head.